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I’d self-talked myself into a more optimistic frame of mind when he came, landing lightly on the roof beside me, the moon illuminating him beautifully, horns, wings, fangs and all. For a moment, I forgot everything and just smiled at him.
“You came.”
“You’re bleeding. Several creatures are considering various methods to come and put the injured prey out of her misery.”
I rubbed my knee and sighed. “Yeah. There was this demon, and then I fell off my skateboard, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“A demon? You saw a demon tonight?”
“Unless I’m mistaken, but he licked me, and it was quite memorable. He actually licked the place where I’m turning to stone. That’s probably not a coincidence, is it? Maybe checking to see how edible I really am before he commits to chomping me entirely.”
He leaned over me, blocking out the moon and the rest of the world, his wings outstretched until we were in the dark again. Was he going to kiss me? Maybe that would cure the stone, like one kiss would make me stone, and two would make me human. I could just keep kissing him indefinitely until?—
He grabbed my arm, sniffing it, licking it, and then biting it. Not enough to break skin, but just checking for surface tension or something else I don’t know.
“That’s definitely stone coated in demon saliva.” He grimaced, and I giggled in spite of myself.
“Demon saliva not your favorite?”
“Definitely not. Did you know that your father was a gargoyle?”
I stared at him, shadowy features frustratingly hard to make out. “My father’s a what?”
“This is one of the reasons humans and gargoyles don’t get married and have children. Those children eventually turn to stone unless they can learn to become live stone, or the gargoyle form that you see before you. You’re old to turn to stone, so you must not have been exposed to your father or any other gargoyles much before now.”
“At all. My mom doesn’t know who my dad is, and not because she’s a slut, but because she can’t remember. There was an accident.”
“Mm. That’s another reason gargoyles don’t marry humans: there are so many accidents. Gargoyles have many enemies.”
I shook my head, my mind reeling. “You’re telling me that my dad’s a gargoyle, and it’s possible for me to become a gargoyle, too?”
“If he was a powerful enough gargoyle, but those lines are well-preserved for the next generation of protectors.”
“Are you one of those lines who are well-preserved? That means not interested in marrying humans, right? You just kiss them?” My chest ached, but this wasn’t the time to get petty or whatever.
“You aren’t going to marry or kiss anyone if you turn to stone. I suppose I could kiss you, but there wouldn’t be any impact, since you’d be stone. Where do you want to be when you turn to stone? This roof would be a good place, although the other tower would be better.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want to turn to stone. How do I find my father when I haven’t met him and he hasn’t tried to find us for the past twenty years? How many gargoyles are there? A dozen? Can I just ask all of them?”
“Hundreds of thousands that are registered, many more who are not,” he said absently. “But this,” he said, raising a strand of hair and sniffing it, then wrapping it around his finger. “You have a lot of hair, and it isn’t a common color. Is your mother’s hair red?”
I shook my head while his hand got closer and closer to my face, a ball of red wrapped around his hand. “Are there a lot of red-haired gargoyles?”
“Several lines, some elites who have a great deal of say in various government bodies, and some who prefer the more solitary lifestyle like the miners.”
“Miners and elites, huh? I’m going to go with miners. They’re more likely to condescend to date humans, right?”
“You are mistaken. It would be cruel to date a human knowing what harm it would cause. Elites are much more likely to be selfish enough to get a human woman pregnant.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Well, when you put it that way, why did you kiss me, because you’re a selfish elite?”
“I was distracting you from my spell. I meant nothing personal by it.”
My heart sunk for no reason at all. “Oh, right. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome. I’m not someone who can get access to the records you’ll need to go through to find your father. You’ll have to work with someone who is from a family groomed to take his place in the Gray Society.”
I winced. “I hate literally every person I know like that, and I know a lot. I work at Gray College, which is a prime feeder school to positions and specialized academies that cater to… Are you saying that the Gray Society is full of gargoyles?”
